A Christening
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: 5x13 - Barry and Iris christen her new office. Barry/Iris. One-shot.


A/N: Takes place literally just before WA's first scene in the episode. Was inspired by my thinking Barry's new haircut was hot and wanting a little sexy time based off that and westallen94's wanting to see some sexy times in their office before the scenes starts. Here's a combination of the two. Enjoy!

*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.

*I own nothing. No copryight infringement intended.

...

As his lips cascaded down her neck and nimble fingers unbuttoned her shirt from the bottom up, Iris caught her bottom lip between her teeth and shivered in his arms.

"This isn't quite what I had in mind when you said you wanted to help decorate my office this morning."

Barry smirked deviously against her skin.

"Then you don't know me very well, Iris West-Allen," he said huskily, teasing a gasp and a whimper out of her as he captured her lips and slid his hand beneath her shirt before letting it rest just beneath one breast.

"Guess not," she said, arching up against him. She bit his earlobe gently and slowly traveled her hand down his back until her fingers cupped his bare ass, feeling him shudder above her. "But I know you a little."

She smirked as he moaned, moving his lips down her neck again, tasting every inch of her skin as if it was the most exquisite dessert. The goosebumps racing across her arms and legs came as no surprise, though she was far from cold. In fact, she was getting hotter by the second.

Barry cleverly peeled away the rest of her shirt and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

"Hey, that's my-"

He silenced her protest with a kiss and smiled against her lips.

"I know. That's why I swept the floor before you got here."

She wanted to complain that it was _still_ the floor, whether it was swept or not, but her mind became hazy as the memory of when she first walked in the door fluttered to the surface.

Barry Allen had completely caught her off-guard when he caught her lips and her unbalanced body the second she walked into the partially furnished office around nine o'clock that morning. Her bag had immediately fallen from her arm, the contents spilling onto the floor, as she squealed and clutched at him. Before she'd been able to register exactly what happened, he was kissing her again. The next time she opened her eyes, he'd deposited her on the couch in the center of the room and was hovering over her.

He'd mentioned to her the night before how he wanted to come in sometime today to help her arrange and decorate the office a little more, since he'd had to skip out on the activity earlier that day, but he'd still been home when he left and only said he'd stop by later when she asked, so she had no reason to think he'd get there before she did. Or that his horny ass would jump her as soon as she came through the door.

Except for the fact that he was the Flash, of course. And her husband, who went into a full-fledged panic if he did not get his morning sex with her.

To be fair, she operated in much the same way.

Still, she was too focused this morning to be worrying about whether she'd get her Barry Allen sexing before lunch time. Apparently, he'd decided to be focused for her.

The sound of her pants being unzipped brought Iris back to the present as she registered Barry deftly working to undress the rest of her and yet he himself had only his shoes departed from him, and that was of his own doing. Still, she followed his lead and lifted her ass off the cushion when he'd started curling his hands around her hips to drag the pants down, and her underwear with them.

"_Agh, Iris_," he muttered, sucking in his breath when she lifted herself up against him and left a damp spot on his pants. "You're wet."

"Soaked, actually," she clarified, drumming her fingernails down the back of his neck through the beads of sweat that had popped up one after the other ever since they hit the couch.

He groaned and dropped his head between her breasts, feeling around her back to unlatch her bra and dispose of that too. She helped him along, and when he lifted his head to look at her, she pushed him up to a sitting position, so she could return the favor of so seductively ridding him of clothing.

"We're not having sex on my new couch in my new office with your clothes on, Barry Allen."

He snorted but let her undress him.

"How are you going to prevent stains?" he asked, amused, smiling wide when his wife admired his abs after she'd stripped him of white t-shirt.

After a moment, he took the hand pressed against his stomach and lowered it to the bulge in his pants. He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed his cock until they both shuddered, until they were both so desperate for each other, words and anything outside this moment hardly registered.

"Because I am-"

"-definitely going to make them," she finished, as breathlessly as he'd started. She licked her lips.

"Well?" he asked, mesmerized as she quickly unbuckled him and started tugging his pants and boxers down to the floor, his erect cock whipping out almost immediately. As was confirmed by the quick sucking in of his breath when the cool air hit his skin and all restraints were gone.

"Cum inside me," she said, wrapping her hands around his neck now that he was fully undressed and pulling him with her as she lay back on the couch. "Empty your white-hot, creamy load into my pussy until you've got nothing left," she whispered hotly, making pre-cum surface on the tip of his cock. "If I can't keep it inside…"

He met her eyes, amazed he was still breathing.

"Well, you'll get me a new couch."

Under clothed circumstances, he would've laughed and maybe tickled her, maybe kissed her, maybe eventually made love to her. But they were very unclothed right now, and he was on fire.

He covered her mouth with his own and thrust his cock into her soaking core, so that her scream was swallowed and her body was so tightly wound around his that all he could feel was Iris, and a small inch of couch cushion where his knee and hands were braced.

Moving in sync, the seconds turned into minutes and then nearly an hour of excruciating bliss. She came first, calling his name, and he emptied himself into her before she finished. Breathing heavily, he lay his head on her shoulder and slowly eased himself down. Iris' fingers lazily trailed down his sweaty back.

"This was…not what I…"

"Thought I meant," he finished. "Yeah, I know." He swallowed.

"Did you have this planned since last night? When you brought up coming in?"

"Uh-uh." He shook his head, too tired to lift it.

"When then?"

He kissed her collar bone, then the crook of her neck.

"This morning at breakfast," he said, his lips moving further up her neck.

"At breakfast?" She frowned, then biting her lip as his lips pressed behind her ear, causing her toes to curl.

"Mhmm." He moved to the other side of her neck and kissed again. "When I was bringing the food over."

"I'm always turned on when you cook for me, Baby," she said, clenching her fingers in his hair and squeezing his thighs. He groaned.

"Mmm. You said something this time, though."

She was drawing a blank.

"About my…hair?"

Her eyes flashed open, and he lifted his head, and she saw once again the haircut he'd gotten sometime between when they went to bed and when he greeted her in the kitchen for breakfast. It looked _very_ good on him. She'd shamelessly checked him out for a full thirty seconds before saying a word, not even one to address his inquiry.

"You remember now?" he teased, well aware by the look in her eyes that she had.

The shock and slight embarrassment dissolved into a teasing sensuality as she pulled him in for another kiss.

"I remember."

"Say it again," he whispered huskily, sending chills ripping up her spine.

She licked her lips, brushing his in the process and making him kiss her in the silent moment lost in time.

"That haircut looks…really good on you, Bear."

"She said…as she waved her hand in front of her face like she was on fire," he added, his voice a low murmur as his lips descended on her jaw line.

"It did a number on you, too…" She sucked in a breath as he nibbled on her sweet spot.

"Mmm…" He pretended to contemplate. "Maybe the next thing you said."

"Oh, yeah." She smiled wide, remembering.

"Say it," he requested, sliding his fingers down her stomach the longer she held her tongue. "_Say it_," he demanded, his fingers brushing against her sensitive clit until she gasped and squirmed, only for him to grab her hips and keep her in place.

"Okay, okay."

She met his laughing eyes, but the darkness in his deep emeralds was making her come undone all over again.

"You look really…hot." Her eyelids lowered, taking on a dreamy appearance.

Barry gulped.

"She said as she walked into my arms and caressed my newly cut hair."

"Caressed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, a little amused.

"It sure as hell felt like it," he muttered, then kissed her again.

She moved her hands to the sides of his head and massaged, same as she'd done earlier that morning. If his eyes had been open, she would've seen them rolling back just like they had then.

"Iris," he murmured.

"Yeah?" she asked, lovingly pressing her lips to the spot where his jaw and neck meet.

"I think we christened your office."

Her eyes flashed open. She pulled back and looked at him to see his smiling, laughing face.

"We said we'd christen every place that was ours, remember?"

Her jaw dropped. Sure, she remembered. It was the first conversation they'd had after they had sex for the first time.

"But this isn't our place, Barry. This isn't the loft or the rooftop at Jitters or-"

"The lab at CCPD?" he asked, smugly. "Pretty sure that's _my_ place, since _I'm_ the one who works there."

Her mouth hung open until she could remember what words were.

"Why, you-" she started, accusingly.

He raised eyebrows, waiting.

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, fine."

He grinned and went with her when she pulled him down for another kiss.

Any additional kisses were kept short to avoid another romp. Instead, they lazily curled into each other and fell into a short sleep while their bodies cooled down. They were still a little sticky when they woke up, so they redressed, Barry whisked them home and they showered without incident. This time they walked to Iris' office hand in hand, and to Barry's dismay not much else had been brought into the office to arrange.

Only the one item they'd sullied that morning: the pretty blue couch which, no matter how many times he moved it, only really fit attractively in two places.

"It's fine, Babe," she said, only half paying attention to him now with her eyes on the computer.

But Barry couldn't decide which spot he liked better, and inevitably only abandoned the dilemma when bigger, real-world problems rose to the surface.

Such as people thinking they had any right to not like his wife's blog.

And him reminding himself that writing everyone hate mail would do nothing to solve the situation.

Despite how much fun it would be to see the looks on their faces.


End file.
